


Secrets We Keep

by UrsaMajorStories



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Medieval, Barbarian Tweek Tweak, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Romantic Fluff, South Park: The Stick of Truth, Stick of Truth AU, Thief Craig Tucker, Whump, talking flowers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsaMajorStories/pseuds/UrsaMajorStories
Summary: The flowers had always held their secrets close to their hearts. The barbarian and the thief were no different.





	Secrets We Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of the characters. I just like to write gay fanfiction about them in my spare time.
> 
> So here's a one shot that took me way too long to write, ended up being bigger than expected, and is now a two-shot. And, honestly, I'm in love with it.

_Why be a mountain when you could be a flower?_

It was an old saying that Tweek always remembered in high summer.

He first heard it when he still living in his clan’s village. He was a young boy then and had a heart full of innocence and simplicity, one that could still be enraptured by the stories the elders told. They said that the flower was the fiercest warrior ever to grace the green earth. It held the secrets of death and rebirth inside its tiny bud and would hide underground during the winter, to obscure the revitalizing powers that humans sought. The mysteries it whispered would only be told to those who were strong enough to survive.

That was why the months of abundance were celebrated as if it were a victory. Food and drink were always available. No one was cold or hungry. All was well with the world. The flowers knew this, of course, so they would to return to the surface. Against the sweltering heat, their petals opened wide to expose their dazzling hues, thriving despite the little resources they had. They faced the sun and basked in its rays of fire, never faltering. It seemed as if they embraced the pain of the burns.

This was the time of year when they shared their secrets with those who could listen.

He remembered how he and his friends used to search for the biggest snapdragon or the brightest petunia, innocently thinking the biggest and brightest had the best secrets. They didn’t understand yet. They hadn’t come of age.  

It wasn’t until much later that Tweek was able to learn how to listen. And with that knowledge came the true meaning of the saying. Mountains may crumble, crush themselves under their own massive weight. But the flowers always seemed to endure, to bloom despite it all.

_So, why be a mountain when you could be a flower?_

Looking out into the vast meadow had sparked a deep-seated nostalgia within Tweek, and he laughed softly to himself. _Who would ever think of a barbarian as a flower?_

In the distance, he could see the blood orange blossoms of poppies. There must have been thousands of them scattered about the tall grasses. All were reminders of simpler, happier times. He was almost tempted to run to them, lose himself in their brilliance. But the low, cautious voice that rumbled from behind him kept him rooted to the earth.

“What is it?”

Tweek tensed, refusing to turn around. He couldn’t bear to look at those sharp, condescending eyes. Not if he was going to lie. “Nothing.”

The figure that the voice belonged to stepped to his side, fixing his eyes in the same direction. Tweek doubted that he appreciated the beauty of nature like he did. His companion was stern and focused and probably had no time to enjoy such trivial things. Nevertheless, his reply surprised Tweek. “This land is certainly not nothing.”

There was a tinge of longing in his voice, a strange deviation from his usual, neutral tone. The sudden change had Tweek stuttering over the simplest words. “I-I know. I just…I’m standing here like a fool, yearning for something I’ll never get back.”

Tweek winced as he listened to himself ramble, sure that he sounded as stupid as he felt. He turned towards the figure, starting to head towards the path they had been following. It was ragged and wind-blown dirt road, but at least it gave them direction. Tweek had meant to brush past the imposing figure, grant him no trace of emotion. His only downfall was his slight glance upwards. The intense green of his companion’s gaze pierced him, just as an obsidian arrowhead would. Tweek felt wounded, stunned, yet he found the strength to hold his ground. The man watched him carefully, eyes devoid of feeling. “You are no fool.”

“Gazing at flowers isn’t foolish?” The barbarian eyed him, inquisitive. Rarely did the cloaked figure speak. This was their first true conversation in days.

 The man merely shook his head, as if that answered everything. His russet cape flapped in the wind as he pivoted on his heel. “We should move on.”

Tweek looked after him while he walked away, wondering how he managed to make his footfall so quiet. The man was truly a thief by trade, silent and calculating. Tweek was lucky to hear the handful of words he offered.

A dense wall of oaks and ash trees created a thick forest that loomed at the edge of trail. The sparkling sunlight made it look lush and vibrant. Both men slipped into its welcoming façade with grace, having spent most of their lives in the raw, untamable regions of the land. A strip of grass, kept low by animal tread and apparent grazing, imitated enough of a path for them to walk on. Feldspar, the taller of the two, led the way, giving Tweek an opportunity to study the rhythm of the thief’s steps. His saunter was smooth and even, very unlike Tweek’s, which was noisy and had a bit of a bounce. The small conversation they had had gave the barbarian a spring in his step, and he thoughtlessly tried to spark another as they walked through the sun spattered thicket.

“May I ask something of you, Feldspar?”

The thief’s pace faltered, possibly from the shock of hearing his name spoken without malice. A long pause came before the eventual reply. “Alright.”

Tweek knew that he would not recieve a straight answer, but he still wanted to ask. “Why were you in the forest that day? When we first met?”

The answer was immediate. “None of your concern.”

Of course, it wasn’t.

The memory of the encounter flickered just behind Tweek’s eyes. The thief wandered silently through the peaceful woods, looking very out of place, maybe lost. The barbarian had been watching him, stealthily hopping from tree to tree, hoping to get a closer look at the intruder. He was getting dangerously close to the ashen ruins of Tweek’s village.

Long ago, raids had begun on his people, just as he barely became nineteen years of age. They were all branded as those who did not belong. Savages. _Barbarians_. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers combed through the wilderness, picking off all that bore the strange markings of an outsider. Many of the marked people had come to his encampment from neighboring clans, seeking refuge from the merciless hands of men in metal garments. The sanctuary they had found with them did not last long.

There was fire everywhere. Soldiers with brandished swords and gigantic horses strode in like they owned the land itself. Tweek remembered rushing to defend his mother from a soldier’s brutality and then nothing. Nothing until he woke the next morning. Everything was burned to the ground. Nothing stirred. No signs of life. Bodies were strewn about carelessly. All of them with familiar faces. Some of his comrades even disappeared. He couldn’t find them in the rubble. He hoped they had fled.

He wished he had died.

As a service to those he had lost, he vowed to guard their resting place. The home he never thought he would lose.

And, five years later, this thief was about to walk all over their remains.

He remembered soaring from the branches, feeling like he imagined birds felt, and landing a two footed kick into the thief. The force knocked him backwards, giving Tweek the opening he needed. He straddled the thief’s waist, his dagger barely skimming his gasping throat.   

“Why did you spare me?” The question rang out with clarity, resounding through the air like a sharp tack. Tweek was jarred out of reminiscing for a second. Then, the memory of two pure green eyes assaulted his head. They were the first eyes in years that had not looked at him with disgust. He was not the monster people told him he was, not under that gaze. And there was a large thud against his breastbone. A pang of longing. Wishing they would look at him, see him, forever.

“You were too easy to kill.” Tweek shivered, his body jerking oddly as he struggled to push the lie from behind his teeth.

“Fair enough.”

The barbarian ground his teeth together, unsettled by the whole exchange. A welcome distraction came in the form of a bright pulse of color just to the side of their path.

It was a lily, streaked with light blue hues. Its petals tapered outwards in a delicate curve. Each tip dipped into a darker, sapphire-like tint. Tweek had never seen a flower like this. But then again, he was in a rather new terrain. Maybe the flower had never seen a barbarian either. Tweek looked ahead at Feldspar, who had continued on walking leisurely. When there was enough distance between them, Tweek stepped up to the rare bloom and allowed himself to slip into the long-forgotten language of nature. _“Hello, beautiful.”_

The lily recoiled a bit, appearing frightened by the way its petals trembled. Tweek pressed his lips together, feeling horrible for scaring the poor little thing. He must’ve looked terrifying to it. Dark markings painting his face and torso. Frazzled, dirty blonde hair and pointed canines. Truly worthy of the name _barbarian_. Tweek scratched the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious of his rough appearance. _“Don’t be scared. I just wanted to say hi.”_

Two leaves came down from either side of the lily, attached to long, sinewy vines. Shyly, one waved to him. A little hand. Tweek smiled. _“It’s nice to meet you.”_

The leaves pressed themselves gently against the lower petals of the lily, and it shook lightly, as if it were giggling. Tweek chuckled with relief, _“Could I ask you a quick question?”_

The flower nodded eagerly, growing more and more excited to have someone to talk to.

 _“My friend and I are looking to get out of here by nightfall. Are we headed in the right direction?”_ Tweek gestured to the so-called friend and found that he had disappeared. For miles down, under arches of the trees, there was no trace of him. He looked back at the flower, and it stared back. Both were confused.

But then, the lily seemed to drift to the side, peering over Tweek’s shoulder. With a small noise that resembled a gasp, it shot back up into the trees, vines and leaves frantically trailing after it. The abrupt shift in energy put Tweek on edge, and he reached back for his bow.

“What language is that?”

Tweek whirled around, ready to strike whoever had caught him off guard. But when he faced the assailant, he saw that it was only the blue-capped hooligan named after a type of rock.

“Gah! Damn it! Don’t do that!”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well, you never answer _mine_ ,” Tweek huffed, a rough roll of agitation coursing through his veins. Feldspar stepped backwards, looking somewhat bewildered. Sighing, Tweek pushed past him. “It’s one that the forest can understand.”

Feldspar tilted his head, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Sounds Druidic.”

“Because it is,” Tweek snorted, not bothering to turn around as he made his way to a sizable boulder. He quickly clambered up its ragged face and stretched himself out on top of it. Something wasn’t right with him today. He was spacing out, becoming distracted, and, worst of all, getting caught doing it. He was usually better than this. Maybe it was something the air, the change of scenery. He sighed and shut his eyes, blocking out the patches of sunlight glittering through the treetops. The minutes slowly drifted by, turning into an hour or two, and peaceful quiet met him on all sides. Tweek half expected that Feldspar had vanished again, giving him a wide berth until he felt ready to continue. The thief always knew when to let him be. Yet, when Tweek finally opened his eyes, he saw that he was far from alone. Feldspar sat on the grass, his back leaning against the rock. He held his sword in his lap, eyes half-lidded and relaxed as he polished it with his cape.

Warmth radiated from Tweek’s chest while he watched him clean the weapon with care. The gesture made him feel strangely protected. Like Feldspar was there to guard him while he rested. Tweek’s heart squeezed uncomfortably, and he raked his hands across his face in frustration. There was no use giving into thoughts like that.

He gazed down at the thief, committing to memory the sound of his breath, the way his fingers caressed the expert blacksmith’s craftmanship. Tweek often wondered how the sword came into his possession. He often wondered about a lot of things concerning Feldspar. He knew nothing about the man, and whenever he asked he was met with either evasion or empty words. Soon, he gave up trying. Yet, the heat in Tweek’s breast was still burning, and his heart was beginning to soften. Silence is only met with silence until someone chooses to break it.

“My clan used to talk to the flowers, hoping to learn their secrets. I’m not sure if any were revealed to them, though. Honestly, if nothing else, they make good listeners. They’d even listen to us sing, if they felt like it.”

It wasn’t much of a revelation, but it was something. At least it explained why he knew an esoteric language. But Feldspar took something else from it as well. “You sing?”

“Is that interesting to you?” Tweek’s eyes darted downwards to look at the thief in disbelief. Feldspar had his chin lifted upwards, so he could stare back with mild twinkle in his gaze. Tweek’s mouth went dry when he saw a slight lift at both corners of his mouth. That smile drained Tweek’s mind of all inhibitions, and suddenly his mouth was making words before he could process them. “I used to.”

“What does that mean?” Feldspar inquired, his face returning to neutral.

“I haven’t had anyone to sing to in a long time. Even the flowers seem to hide from me now.”

Feldspar gestured to off to the side. “That one didn’t.”

The same small lily Tweek aquatinted himself with had made its way into another tree, close to where the pair of warriors rested. It appeared to be observing them. Tweek snickered and waved. The little bloom waved back. Then, its petals tilted to regard the thief, more curious now than afraid. Feldspar nodded to it, offering a soft, “Hello.”

It twisted hesitantly before turning to Tweek, who quickly translated the foreign word for it. Once it seemed to understand, it turned back to Feldspar and gave a timid wave of a leaf. The thief sported a smile once more. “Do I intimidate it or something?”

Tweek answered him with a completely unrelated question. “Why are you so talkative today?”

Feldspar’s smile swiftly morphed into a smirk. “I thought you missed the sound of my voice.”

The laugh that popped out of Tweek’s mouth was too fast, too nervous. “You’re ridiculous.”

The thief raised his middle finger towards the barbarian, a gesture he had to explain to the blonde several times. It only made Tweek laugh even more. Gradually, silence unfolded onto the trio comfortably, swelling in the air alongside the balmy summer heat. The quiet began to lull Tweek into a sort of daze, a soft halfway point between waking and dreaming. Feldspar’s voice sounded far away, barely disturbing the air around them, but the words he muttered made Tweek startle.

“You can sing to _me_.”

Tweek made himself dizzy with how fast he bolted upright. His head snapped towards Feldspar, his eyes scrutinizing. The thief went back to cleaning his sword, like he hadn’t said anything at all. Tweek shook his head. He must have imagined it in his dream-like stupor. But before the stillness could consume them, Feldspar spoke again. “I mean that.”

The barbarian bit his lip, attempting to hold back an alarmed gasp. He could taste the acidic sting of blood against his tongue, and a hollowed pressure started to build in his lungs. Typical signs of panic that Tweek had grown accustomed to. But, despite his body’s reaction, his mind was unusually calm. And _curious_. “You’d...like that?”

“I would.” The thief shrugged. But there was something else to it, just under the surface. He did not look up from his sword, which now shined like crisp morning dew on sharp blades of grass. Tweek knew that behavior all too well. He was hiding his face.

Feldspar always seemed so serious, even unfeeling at times. Seeing him act with even the slightest emotion was enough to spark a surge of confidence in Tweek. They were both human after all. Sliding down the boulder with a polished landing, Tweek sighed, “You’re such a mystery to me, Feldspar.”  

He didn’t catch the thief’s response, if he even had one. A jittery rustle from the trees caught his attention. The blue lily looked at Tweek expectantly, waiting for him to say something. Amused, Tweek switched tongues. _“May I sing for you too?”_

The lily clapped its tiny leaf-hands happily, outwardly enthusiastic about the idea of music. Tweek grinned, even though his throat was drying rapidly. He just needed to focus on the task at hand, not what might happen or what they might think. His mind could get him into trouble if he let the possibilities overwhelm him.

All he needed to do was remember a song. The old, haunting melodies of his tribe would sometimes float through his dreams, the lyrics garbled and distant. He remembered their distinct sounds, the instruments involved, and even the voices that used to sing them the sweetest. One voice had always risen above the rest, superior in tone and quality. The words it sang were clear and strong. The tune it made was familiar and reassuring. His mother’s song filled his ears until he heard nothing else.

His lungs spread themselves wide, preparing for the sounds they’d be sustaining. It was in nature’s language, not his own. He looked to the lily, knowing that it would understand him. He wasn’t sure if he could meet Feldspar’s gaze, even if he had no idea what the song was saying.

Tweek’s voice began faintly, gentle and smooth like the wind that twirled through the leaves.

_You had taken a chance with me_

_On a path where flatlands meet the sea_

_You took my hand and held it fast_

_And promised me that our love would last_

The lily twirled gleefully as Tweek finished the verse. It stretched its leaves towards him, motioning for more. Tweek took its leaves in his hands and soothed its excited shaking with another piece of the song, his voice strengthened by the positive response.

_The autumn leaves had fell away_

_And as winter skies turned to grey_

_You took my hand and held it fast_

_And promised me that our love would last_

The flower began to sway in time with the rhythm Tweek had set. Tweek grinned and chanced a glance back at Feldspar. The thief watched the pair from where he sat, that small, rare smile pushing up at his cheeks. Tweek’s face burned and he quickly snapped his eyes away. The lily seemed to giggle again, and the leaves that he was holding began to snake in and out of his fingers. Vines intertwined themselves around his wrists and hands in a gentle grip. Tweek watched two of the lily’s petals bend in half. Almost as if it was winking.

Before Tweek could ask what that meant, the vines twirled him around and nudged him towards Feldspar. When the barbarian stood frozen, the lily shoved him again. Feldspar raised a questioning eyebrow but Tweek ignored him, earning him another poke in the back from the impatient plant.

The thief began to chuckle for the first time in years. “What is it doing?”

“It’s pestering me,” Tweek huffed, thoroughly flustered. One more push from behind finally set him off. The barbarian finally spun around and wheezed at the now snickering lily. _“Fine.”_

He trotted out of the plant’s reach, evading another playful swat aimed at his face. Then, his feet padded their way towards the boulder, and Tweek ended up sitting against it. He was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Feldspar’s body, his shoulder dangerously close to brushing his cloak. Feldspar didn’t question it. He gathered enough information from the way the lily bobbed its petals approvingly. He voiced his thoughts out loud. “It wanted us closer?”

Tweek shrugged even though he knew exactly what the bloom was getting at. _It knew who the song was for._

The enchanting melody floated through Tweek’s mind again, dispelling his jumbled thoughts, promising refuge from a vast array of emotions. Tweek lost himself to it and let his voice sing the once forgotten words. Daring to let his gaze rest on Feldspar.

_One fine day you turned to me_

_Your face as sweet as I’d ever seen_

_Yet no promises left your mouth_

_And my love for you then turned to doubt_

Lilies of all different colors started to blossom from the foliage of the trees. They sparkled as they shook their petals free of shinning water droplets. Dazzling reds, blues, purples, and pinks lined the canopy above. They hopped and skipped around each other, making their way around the treetops with ease. They slapped their leaves on tree trunks and strummed their own vines like fine instruments. All at once, they began singing the song from the beginning, creating a choir of magnificent proportions.  

Tweek jumped slightly as he heard the ancient words repeated back to him. There was a variety of different voices, young and old, high and low. They shaped their own harmonies and rhythms. It sounded richer, full of life. Unlike anything his clan could have ever hoped to sound like.

“Do they usually do that?” Feldspar whispered as he breathlessly watched the frolicking flowers.

“No,” Tweek answered, wonder and surprise in his inflection, “I’ve never seen this before.”

Some of the lilies glided down to the grasses below, pairing off to dance with each other, twirling and spinning with leaves tangled together in loving embraces. It was as if the forest was having a grand ball. And a couple of the whirling flowers decided that _everyone_ should take part. They slid to each side of the human spectators and raised themselves up like giant cobras. Tugging at their wrists with their vines, they promptly pulled the pair onto their feet and linked their hands together. Every hair on Tweek’s arms and neck bristled at the feel of Feldspar’s leather glove under his palm.

The vines receded, yet Feldspar’s hand still held his. Baffled, Tweek raised his head to look at the thief, his mouth already forming an anxious explanation. Feldspar’s voice stopped him, “They want us to dance.”

Tweek pulled his hand away, looking downwards sheepishly. “Yes, but I _don’t dance_.”

Feldspar crossed his arms. “You want to offend the flowers?”

“No.”

“Then just follow my lead.”

The thief carefully stepped his way into the middle of the spinning flowers, offering his hand to the barbarian. Tweek eyed his outstretched arm, following it down to his relaxed fingertips, then sputtered, “You’re joking.”

“Not at all.” Feldspar’s face remained as neutral as his voice. Tweek shifted anxiously from foot to foot, unsure of how to proceed. His insides were churning, every organ twisting into hopeless knots. The apprehension must’ve shown on his face, because Feldspar’s voice took on a soothing quality, “I haven’t had someone to dance with for a while, too. You’re not the only one who’s been alone.”

Tweek bit his lip. The reassurance in those eyes drew him closer. He tentatively pressed his shaking hand into the thief’s. Several flowers giggled excitedly as they made room for them at the center of their circle. Feldspar disregarded it. Or maybe he couldn’t hear it like Tweek did. That soft clicking of stamen and petals could never escape his ears.

Tweek was so concerned with the small chitters of the flowers that he barely felt the arm that wrapped around his waist, or the hand that tenderly enfolded his. Only the low whisper in his ear could bring him out of his thoughts. “Put your left hand on my shoulder.”

“A-Alright…” Tweek exhaled and obeyed, finally sensing the warm body pressed so close to his. The hand pressed at the small of his back guided him forward as Feldspar stepped back. Then, to the side, just in time with the song still being sung from the trees. Tweek carefully watched the pattern their feet were forming, making sure not to step the wrong way. If he stepped on Feldspar’s toes, he knew he would dissolve into a convulsing puddle of embarrassment.

They were turning slowly, copying the way flowers coiled in the ring around them. Or were the flowers copying them? Tweek studied their flourishing movements, trying to decipher which half of the couples he was supposed to mirror.

“Look at me, Tweek.” The deep, nasally voice cut through the anxious fog in his mind. And, Tweek tore his eyes off the flowers to fine a warm smile and twinkling eyes. A quiet piece of encouragement was shared with him. “You’re doing fine.”

Tweek soon realized that he was right. In spite of his worries, he kept in time with Feldspar’s movements, guided by firm hands and the rhythm the forest echoed. He gazed into the thief’s jade eyes, transfixed, and felt himself surrender to the hazy warmth in the back of his mind. As soon as Feldspar felt the tension in Tweek’s body release, he cooed, “That’s it.”

In one sweeping motion, Feldspar wrapped both arms around Tweek’s waist and hoisted him up so that his stomach pressed against his chest. Tweek let out a surprised squeal, then ended up laughing as he was twirled around a few times. Feldspar let him down again, guffawing as well as his hands resumed their places against Tweek’s body.

The joy Tweek felt in that moment allowed him another burst of confidence. One strong enough to ask a question. “Who taught you how to dance?”

“My mother.” Feldspar’s face fell a little, but he quickly countered, “Who taught you to sing?”

“I’m not sure.” Tweek wavered for a moment. Everyone in his clan sang. And every song seemed to be taught by a new person. “I know my mother did at one point. This song is hers after all.”

“It’s beautiful,” Feldspar breathed, beginning the dance anew. Tweek stared into his eyes, audacious enough to see the slivers of emotion behind his dilated irises. And the last verse fell from his lips.

_You had taken a chance with me_

_And when you realized what I had seen_

_You kissed my lips and spoke your past_

_And showed me that our love will last_

Feldspar’s eyes widened, and he pressed Tweek’s hand to his chest. The arm curled around his side gripped his body tighter, until the heat of their bodies blended together. A spark of understanding flashed through the thief’s eyes. “Tweek…what is this song about?”

The flowers halted themselves, their sensitive petals sensing something in the air. There was a rustling in the bushes that was too large to be one of their kind. The red lilies sounded a warning cry, and immediately the lilies scrambled up the tree trunks once more. Blooms slammed shut into constricted, quivering buds. The only color left in the forest was green.

Again, a faint rustling of bushes. The embraced pair quickly shifted, standing back to back, ready to confront the intruder. Tweek closed his eyes and listened. Again, the disturbance reached his ears, coming directly from the right. It was barely there, stealthily hidden within the other sounds of the thriving forest. The smell of musk wafted into his nostrils, savage and hungry. The bow on Tweek’s back flashed into his hands with ease, an arrow already loaded on the string. He nearly had the creature pinpointed in the bushes, its huffs of breath and dripping saliva now within the range of his eardrum, when Feldspar stepped in front of him. “Get into the trees.”

Tweek hissed, his concentration utterly broken. “This is not your kill. Whatever that is, it’s huge, and all you have is a medium sized blade.”

With his saw-toothed weapon drawn, Feldspar offered a glance from over his shoulder. “You can’t shoot arrows if it pins you to the ground.”

The snarl from inside the hedge was closer than ever, and they had no more time to argue. Tweek quickly leaped to the nearest branch and hoisted himself into the thick canopy. He watched the thief ground himself, crouching and ready to either leap out of the beast’s reach or attack it head on. Tweek couldn’t tell what he was planning, but he did have to admit that he made the right call. The barbarian’s range of view was larger now that he was safely perched in an oak. No matter how big the creature was, he’d be able to see all of it.

The beast knew it was found, so it decided to take its time revealing itself. The first thing to slink out of the bush was its jagged teeth, bared with a profoundly threating curl of its lips. Then its muzzle, which was massive and blacker than the shadows that had once concealed it. It lifted its head into the sunlight with poise, a wild, dark mane encompassing its great face. Steady paws padded their way towards the thief, until it stood just a few feet away. Tweek twitched violently, pure terror gripping his chest. He had never seen a wolf that big.

The beast and the man stared each other down, each certain of their own victory. Tweek bit his lip, holding back his breath. Anxious, distressing thoughts crowded Tweek’s mind. He saw blood and fangs wrapped around a human throat. Heard the roar of monsters, the screams of the vulnerable. A thief that lay dying under the feral stance of a wolf. Tweek ground his teeth together, watching his horrendous thoughts flash before his eyes. He tried to blink them away. _Stay in the present._

The two combatants on the ground had not moved, frozen by the promise of a calculated fight. There was no room for error. The curved claws of the beast sank into the damp earth. One lunge, one bite, one swipe of the paw could end it all. And, Tweek would be damned if he let that forsaken creature make the first move.

An arrow zipped through the air, burying itself deep into the wolf’s shoulder. It wailed in fury, forgetting all about the composure it had maintained. Blood splattered the ground the beast dove on top of Feldspar, barbed paws ensnaring him by the shoulders, vicious jaws snapping open and frothing with rage. Before a fatal bite could clamp down onto his head, Feldspar lodged his sword in between the wolf’s teeth. The clanking of metal against bone pierced Tweek’s eardrums, and another arrow rained down from his bow. This time it lodged itself deep into the sinister creature’s back, causing it to howl in agony. Its head thrashed upwards and it stumbled, giving Feldspar just enough time to regain his footing. Again, the wolf sprang towards him with hate in its glare. Feldspar danced around the clamoring beast and swung his blade deftly against its ribcage. There was a hideous cracking noise that reverberated in the wolf’s body, the unmistakable tearing cartilage and breaking bone. Another howl tore through the creature’s throat. Tweek almost lowered his bow at the sound. The wolf looked plain pitiful.

Yet, there was a fire in its eyes that continued to blaze. A newfound loathing that would fuel it until the end. This fight was not about territory or even sustenance. Not anymore.

The wolf rammed its good shoulder into Feldspar’s chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he fell on his back. Tweek began growling as he watched, displaying his teeth in irritation. There was only so much arrows could do against a creature of that size. He felt for the hilt of his dagger.

Rearing back, the wolf stamped its front feet onto Feldspar’s shoulders, pushing a strangled cry out of the thief. That sent Tweek over the edge of the branch he was balanced on and onto the wolf’s back. The sliver of his dagger glinted under the sunlight, then plunged into dark, matted fur. The wolf whined, bucking the barbarian off with surprising strength, throwing him over Feldspar and spine first into a tree trunk.

Tweek’s vision blurred painfully as his body slid to the ground. He could see a fuzzy outline of the wolf, standing stalk still, like it was waiting for Tweek to stand so it could throw him down again. The familiar blue of the thief’s hat was nowhere to be seen, however, nor the floor length cloak that draped over his body. Tweek sighed with relief. At least Feldspar got away.

With a heavy lurch, Tweek struggled to his feet, his legs wobbling from underneath him. He felt for his dagger, and to his dismay, couldn’t feel the weight of the hilt anywhere around him. Not until he saw the sparkle of metal behind the wolf’s head did he realize that it was still lodged in the beast’s shoulder blade. It limited his options for a counter strike significantly. He could either charge the wolf and try to pry his blade free before the beast snapped at him or shoot at it with one of his five remaining arrows. And, considering how shaky his legs had become, Tweek figured he didn’t have the strength or speed for the former.

Nocking an arrow from his quiver, Tweek snarled, “Had enough?”

The wolf seethed, pulling its tattered body into low, aggressive stance.

“Guess not,” Tweek sighed, pulling the arrow back to the right of his chin. Upon releasing it, the creature lunged for him. The arrow burrowed into its chest, just shy of its heart, yet it was still not enough to extinguish its furious wrath. It extended knife-like claws towards the barbarian, swiping with a fury that only the dragons of old could match.

Tweek braced himself for the stinging impact, but it did not reach him. A firm elbow to his chest sent him flying backwards, and the ripping of fabric and flesh met his ears. Tweek opened his eyes, feeling unwise for closing them, and watched in horror as Feldspar’s body crumpled on the ground with a sickening _thud_.

Rage spiraled through Tweek’s body, giving his legs and arms the strength and stability they had lacked moments before. He had known this kind of anger before. Empty pits where his heart and brain resided. Ears unhearing, eyes unseeing. Throat of the edge of a deafening scream, but his body too tense to let it out.

He could quickly descend into insanity if he wanted to. The kind of wrath that would give him the strength to destroy anything that moved. But, then he saw the shallow movement of Feldspar’s sides. His breathing was enough to ground the barbarian, bring him back to generating rational thoughts. Or at least _one_ rational thought. _Protect him._

The wolf lingered just in front of the fallen man, but soon came face to face with the other. The barbarian’s body curled protectively over the thief. And, he stared at the wolf with wild, predatory eyes. His hand grasped the arrow jutting out from its chest, pushing it deeper, threatening, “Leave. Or I’ll kill you.”

Groaning, the wolf backed up, struggling to loosen the wooden shaft from its body. Tweek let it do so. He wasn’t going to waste one more arrow on the miserable thing.

Sudden darts of red flashed through Tweek’s peripherals. Two red lilies slithered through the grass on snake-like vines. They surrounded the wolf, spitting bright, cherry-colored dust into its wounds. The wolf wailed and pulled itself free from Tweek’s weapon. Then it disappeared back into the bushes.

Tweek looked to the flowers, bewildered. They looked back, confidence in their stance, and slithered back into the trees.

Brushing his confusion off, Tweek quickly sprung off the man laying underneath him. He wanted to say _what the fuck is wrong with you_ or _why the hell did you do that?_ But his irritation dissolved when he saw the watering in the thief’s eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just battered around a bit,” Feldspar rasped. He sat up awkwardly, holding his cloak in at an odd angle across his middle. Tweek reached for him, and Feldspar recoiled from his touch. His eyes hurriedly blinked away any moisture as he heaved himself into a standing position. A pained grunt left him as his legs wavered under his weight. Tweek gave him a disconcerted look, watching the thief catch his breath. He had no idea what was wrong. “Feldspar, I think you need to rest a minute.”

“I’m fine.” The words were repeated, practically spat and too defensive to be true. Yet, against his better judgement, the barbarian let him be. His concern then turned to alarm when Feldspar started to walk back down the trail. Tweek frantically got to his feet. “Where are you going?”

Feldspar hollered back to him. “Out of these damn woods.”

Then, he coughed. It strained him to throw his voice like that.

Tweek hesitated. He might have been overreacting. His head was throbbing, and his muscles were incredibly sore. They both must’ve looked and felt terrible. They had been through much worse though. Maybe walking it off was what they both needed.

Tweek sheathed his blood sullied arrow and jogged to catch up to Feldspar, the inner war between his thoughts quieted for the time being. As he observed the thief’s stride, however, he could see the slight quiver in his legs. The tentative way his feet connected to the ground. The way he held his arm to himself. The blood dripping in between his feet with each labored step. Tweek gasped. _Blood?_

The thief’s breath was weakening, and he finally let out a desperate gasp for air. Tweek wondered how long he had been holding that in. Feldspar’s weight swayed, his head tipping backwards. Tweek’s eyes widened, full of realization and panic. He was going to collapse.

Tweek immediately bolted towards Feldspar, catching his limp body from behind and lowering him gently to the ground. The front of his cloak was soaked completely through with thick, crimson blood, and Tweek quickly moved it out of the way. Feldspar’s arm offered no resistance, flopping lamely to the side as his torso was revealed.

Four long, ugly gashes ripped their way diagonally across the flesh his stomach. They bubbled with dark blood that filled them to the brim, making it almost impossible to tell how deep they were. Tweek’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Feldspar…”

“You were right…I am…easy to kill…” Feldspar panted, each breath ragged. His voice was increasingly hoarse, but he still smiled as he used Tweek’s words against him. Tweek set his jaw, snapping as he fumbled with the clasp of Feldspar’s cloak, “Don’t you dare say that. You’ll be ok.”

“There’s doubt…in your eyes…” The thief’s speech began to slur. Blood started to trickle down from the corner of his lips, slowly painting his chin and neck with liquid gore.

“Stop talking. Save your strength.” Tweek murmured, clenching his teeth together to keep from losing his composure. He ended up shredding the cloth around Feldspar’s neck, yanking the cape out from under his supine figure. He quickly wrapped the fabric around his gapping wounds. Feldspar groaned as Tweek pulled it tight, securing it with a fitted knot by his hip. They could only pray that it would help stop the blood flow. Tweek scratched at his bare torso nervously, wishing he had something else to offer him, something else to remedy the situation. He stared at the blotches of red seeping through the makeshift dressing, his heart nearly seizing with dread. There was nothing else he could do.

Feldspar saw the realization in the blonde’s sorrowful expression, and his eyes softened in understanding. He yanked one of his gloves off and reached out his hand, touched his cold fingers to the curve of Tweek’s warm cheek.  

Tweek froze. The touch was regretful, bittersweet. One that meant _goodbye_.

The barbarian entwined his fingers with the thief’s, snarling helplessly, “Stop it. You’ll make it through this.”

Feldspar just shook his head. As if that answered everything.

A brilliant flash of blue started to unfurl beside the pair. Just to the side of Feldspar’s leaking bandages. Petite, blue petals inspected the situation, brushing against the covered wounds with what appeared to be concern. Tweek gawked at the lily, nearly stunned to silence to see the delicate creature. It was out of place, too meek and mild amidst the suffering and violence.

The lily observed Feldspar’s ashen face, then looked up at Tweek, spreading its trembling petals wide in distress. Tweek watched it sadly, feeling just as upset and frantic. His voice cracked, _“My friend is in need. Can you help us?”_

It tapped its leaves against its petals, looking like it was hysterically shuffling through an assortment of thoughts to find an answer. One by one, its petals started to light up, and it spun around gleefully. It nodded rapidly at the barbarian and motioned for him to follow it. Then, it took off in the other direction, pulling its vine behind it like a trail for reference.

Tweek didn’t think. He just scooped the wounded man into his arms and hit the ground sprinting. Feldspar remained silent as he was jostled in Tweek’s arms. Even when he felt his hat drop from his head, he said nothing. He just watched the trees whoosh past, trying to stay conscious.

The barbarian tracked the never-ending vine like a bloodhound. It was a lifeline. Feldspar’s salvation. He ignored the aching in his muscles, the throbbing in his back and head. His lungs strained and banged against his ribcage with every inhale, greedy for more air than it could hold. At this rate, his body would give out on him in another mile. Hopefully their destination was close.

He saw the lily break its speed at the mouth of a cave, looking back to see if Tweek was still behind him. It waited, wiggling up and down, impatient. Tweek powered through his fatigue, using one last gust of energy to reach the flower. Once the barbarian was close, the flower dipped inside the cavern, its petals giving off a luminescent glow that sliced through the darkness. A living lantern.

Tweek followed the sapphire gleam down a narrow passage. The path twisted and spiraled in on itself, a deep and intricate labyrinth. If the lily wasn’t there to guide him, he would have been lost. He could barely see what was in front of him. Even Feldspar’s face was covered in shadows. Tweek prayed that his eyes were still open and alert. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he died in his arms like this.

At last, the cramped tunnel widened and filtered into a spacious antechamber, lit by hundreds of multi-colored crystals imbedded in the walls. The glow they produced floated over the room with eerie brilliance, reflecting off a small pool of water that settled itself to the side. Stalactites dripped with rain water that had seeped into the earth, producing droplets that rippled the smooth liquid surface. It was gorgeous, but it wasn’t _help_. It was a tomb.

And Tweek could finally see Feldspar’s face again. His eyes were barely open, glazing over, the vibrance in his green irises dimming fast.

The cracks in Tweek’s heart were pulsating, spreading and tearing into more crevasses, yanking more pieces apart. The aching was unbearable. He wished he had never dared to believe things would work out. It only made acceptance harder to attain. The roar that tore through Tweek’s throat reverberated off the chamber walls, but the flower knew the words were meant for it. _“Why did you bring us here?!”_

The lily flinched, holding its leaves to where its tiny chest might have been, and skittered back the way it had come. Leaving Tweek alone with the dying man.

“Damn it.”

The strength he once had had deteriorated, leaving on the swift wings of stale air as he lumbered towards the body of water. Adrenaline in his veins was swiftly replaced by a hollow emptiness. He sank to his knees heavily and laid Feldspar near the cool liquid. All he could think to do was clean the wounds with the liquid. It was clear enough, probably the cleanest that raw water could get. But, as soon as he touched the knot of the cloak-compress, the visceral image of Feldspar rapidly bleeding out assaulted Tweek, bringing tears to his eyes. Then he recalled how careless he had been when attacking the wolf. Impulsive. Reckless. “Oh gods, this is all my fault!”

Hard, heaving sobs made the barbarian’s lungs thrash in his chest. He was too exhausted to hold it back. His whole body shuddered, flooded by a profound grief he hadn’t felt in years. Tweek hoped it was enough to make his heart stop beating. His nails dug into the gravel-like silt beneath him, his fingers and knuckles turning white.

“Tweek…that’s not true…” A weak caress skimmed over Tweek’s clenching hands as Feldspar forced his vocal chords to touch. Tweek could only wail in response. Tears and mucus coated his vocal chords, making him croak and gasp. Fevered heat spread from his forehead, down his nose, through his cheeks, and around his neck. The fact that he couldn’t stop crying made him cry even more.

**_Do not cry, young one. All will be well._ **

Mild, rubbery leaves brushed across Tweek’s face, swiping at the streaks of tears on his cheeks. He sniffled, struggling to calm himself. Once Tweek’s vision had somewhat cleared, he saw that he was surrounded by a sea of lilies. The blue ones crowded closest to him and Feldspar, the rest were scattered along the walls and the floor, side by side. There must’ve been hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand, crammed into the hidden shelter.

Feldspar hissed while a few of them tugged at the knot securing his injuries. Tweek placed a hand over their leaves, _“Are you able to help him?”_

 ** _More than help. We can heal!_** They cried as wrapped their vines around his fingers, urging him to help them with the cloak. Tweek stared at them in shock, unblinking. Then he untwisted the fabric numbly, not knowing what to think or feel anymore. Feldspar watched him warily, “What are they saying?”

Tweek translated, hardly believing the words he said. “They’re going to try and heal you.”

The cluster of blue parted and made a path for a rather large purple lily. It slithered its way to the side of Feldspar’s head, and puffed out a fine, plum colored powder. A shiny residue dusted his face, causing him to cough violently as he inhaled the particles. Tweek placed a hand on Feldspar’s cheek, wiping away the fresh blood that spilled from his mouth. Pits that had reserved his anger started to open again, and he barked at the purple nuisance, _“What was that?”_

The lily held up its leaves in defense. **_Pollen. It will help him rest until he is healed. Soon, he shall be deeply asleep, so he cannot feel the pain._**

Feldspar’s eyelids began to droop, the world suddenly shifting in and out of focus. His breathing was slowing against his will, and he started panting in fear, “What…hah…what is—”

“It’s pollen. Nothing that’ll hurt you.” Tweek felt the sudden need to hold him. He looked scared as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Slowly, gently, Tweek lifted Feldspar’s head onto his lap, so that his thighs cushioned him away from the hard floor. “It’ll help you sleep. They don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”

“B-But—”

“ _I_ don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”

“I’m...not in—Shit!”

Felspar’s cloak was being gingerly pulled away from his sticky wounds by several flowers, the disturbance enough to make them sting again. The thief cried out, and his eyes rolled back into his head as a white-hot fire seemed to consume his abdomen. Tweek tenderly ran his fingers through his ink black hair, whispering small comforts in his ear. “Shhhhh, be still…I’m here…I’ve got you…”

The barbarian placed his free hand on Feldspar’s chest, a grounding touch that the thief latched onto. Their fingers intertwined once more. “Will you sing to me…please?”

“Of course.” The lump in Tweek’s throat threatened to bubble into a choking sob. Feldspar sounded so weak. Vulnerable. Broken. With a shuddering breath, Tweek tilted his head back, attempting to throw his tears back into his eyes. Feldspar squeezed his hand a little, and Tweek composed himself, stifling his sniffles. He brought his gaze back to the man in his lap. There was only one verse he remembered while he watched Feldspar begin to doze off.

_You had taken a chance with me_

_And when you realized what I had seen_

_You kissed my lips and spoke your past_

_And showed me that our love will last_

His voice was brittle, raw from all the crying, but Tweek could see Feldspar visibly relax as he sang. The fear in his eyes faded and his eyelids fluttered, heavy with fatigue. Tweek continued to play with the dark tresses of his hair, combing through them lightly, tightening his grip on Feldspar’s hand as it grew too lax to hold onto him. By the end of the last line, the pollen had finally started to kick in. Feldspar was on the verge of losing consciousness. A loopy smile played upon his lips, and he nuzzled into the warmth of Tweek’s body. Tweek giggled softly, his worried brain distracted by the blissful actions of a man intoxicated by lily pollen.  

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Tweek whispered softly, forgetting all about the wounds and the blood and the fear. Feldspar gazed up at him for a few sweet moments, appreciative, before he finally surrendered to sleep. His eyes slipped closed, and his body released all the tormented strain it held, becoming limp and peaceful. Without thinking, Tweek placed a soft kiss on his forehead. The touch of Feldspar’s skin against his lips stunned him back into reality. His spine shot straight up, and he silently hoped that the thief was too deeply asleep to feel it.

To divert his attention elsewhere, Tweek observed the blue lilies tending to Feldspar’s wounds. They had been waiting for him to be numb to the sensations around him and were in the process of lifting his clothing from his body. The gashes appeared even nastier now that they were fully exposed. One of the lilies caught Tweek staring and reassured him. **_We will do our best._**

Half of the lilies rushed to the pool, gathering water into their cupped petals and dowsing the leaking cuts with it. Blood poured off Feldspar’s bronzed skin like a cascading waterfall, and Tweek squeezed his eyes shut, grateful for the purple lily’s sedative. He could only imagine the screams he would be hearing without it.

Peeking out from his blonde lashes, Tweek saw that the other half of the lilies were glowing now, burning with a calming light. Tweek gawked at them as they rubbed their petals against the gaping holes in Feldspar’s stomach. The sound of tightening skin and sloshing liquids almost made him turn away, but his curiosity outweighed his weak stomach. The blood around the edges of his wounds began sluggishly to congeal and dry, scabbing over and forming a protective barrier. It clicked in Tweek’s mind all at once. _They were speeding up the healing process._

As he watched them work, Tweek started to wonder about where the rest of the lilies had scampered off to, since his vision was filled with nothing but _blue_ petals. He tore his gaze away from the grotesque operation to find out. Off in the distance, he could see a small assembly of purple at the other side of the pool, fiddling with Feldspar’s cloak. They plunged it into the water and scrubbed at the dried bloodstains with intense concentration.

Another group of pink lilies were gathered together in the center of the room, watching in awe as another came through the chamber’s entryway. It carried a piece of blue cloth over its head like a treasured prize. _Feldspar’s hat._ It plopped it in the middle of the crowd and they all took to inspecting it, picking it up and feeling the soft material in wonder.

The red lilies lined the archway of the entrance, alert and on the lookout for any threat.

It was like he had discovered a tiny, underground city.

While he watched the plants teeming with life bustle throughout the room, a blue lily came to rest on Tweek’s shoulder. It was smaller than the others bearing the same color, and distinct in the way it moved. Tweek recognized it easily. _“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”_

It leaned its petals onto Tweek’s temple. **_That’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to._**

The throbbing in his head subsided as the lily pressed itself against him. _“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for this.”_

 ** _You’ve already repaid me with your good company. This was the least I could do._** The lily continued to fuss over him, repairing the cuts and bruises that lined the barbarian’s body. In between nervous flits, it nodded its petals towards Feldspar. **_He would have died without you._**

Tweek scoffed at it. _“I think you mean he was dying **because** of me.”_

The lily paused its gesticulations and stared Tweek in the face.  **_No. No, I don’t._**

 _“He can take care of himself.”_ Tweek sighed.

 ** _Obviously not. He needs you right now._** The lily brushed around him, slithering towards the pool. The offhanded comment took Tweek aback, and he looked down at the slumbering man. He caressed his cheek, doubting that it was true. Tweek needed _him_ more than anything.

When the flower returned, it poured cooling water over Tweek’s face and arms. Black, tar-like war paint drizzled down his body, which the lily was quick to wipe away. **_What is your name?_**

“Tweek.”

 ** _Huh. Unique._**  

 _“Strange is more like it.”_ Tweek didn’t bother looking up. He was too busy observing the way Feldspar’s lips had parted as he rested, and listening for his soft, clear breaths. It no longer sounded like he was choking on his own blood.

Water was still being carefully splashed on his body, clearing away dirt, grime and miniscule amounts of blood. Tweek paid it no mind. Not until his name was called by the lily. **_Mister Tweek?_**

_“Yes?”_

**_May I ask you a question?_ **

_“Sure.”_

**_Why haven’t you told him?_ **

_“Told him what?”_

**_That you love him._ **

_“I-I…I don’t…”_ Tweek stammered, thrown off by the statement, _“What makes you think—”_

The lily began to list off the many reasons behind its assumption before Tweek could finish. **_I saw the way you looked at him while you danced. How you defended him. I heard the way you wept for him. Softly sang to him. Even now, you watch over him with such affection in your eyes._**

Tweek crinkled his brow, afraid to say the truth out loud. If he did, it could consume his heart, never let him go. Yet, as he gazed at Feldspar, his face so at peace and innocent as he slept, he realized it already had a hold on him, spoken or not. He had surrendered himself ages ago and had the gall to pretend to fight it.

The lily pushed on, almost irritated as it cried, **_Why deny your love for this man?_**

It was a good question. One he wasn’t quite sure he knew the answer to. Was he afraid he didn’t love him back? Was he scared about what others would think? Was he doubtful that he could handle a relationship like that? He mulled all the possibilities over in his mind, and most of them were partially true. But they weren’t the ones that kept him silent. He looked over at the gradually healing wounds on Feldspar’s body, finding his answer in crusted blood and shallow breaths. _“I lose everything I love…”_

The lily nodded in sympathy, not bothering to ask about the past. Instead, it shared a secret with him. **_We all do in time. That does not keep our hearts from loving._**

Tweek wished his family was alive in that moment. He wished he could rush home and share the ancient wisdom. He would tell them all about how the flowers sang with him, danced with him, how they saved someone he cared about. Someone he loved. He longed for things to be different, so he could tell them everything, good and bad, that he had left unspoken.

He had made the same mistake with Feldspar, waiting until it was too late. But there was still breath in the thief’s body. He hadn’t left him yet.

Almost as if it could read his thoughts, the flower nuzzled against his ear and whispered, **_I think it would be a great comfort for him to hear what is in your heart._**

_“Do you think he can hear me?”_

**_He will always hear you._ **

And with that the flower went back to the others, adding its curative powers to the swarm of blue lilies hunched over the thief. Tweek looked after it. He really couldn’t repay it now. The flower may have enjoyed that fact, or just enjoyed helping. Either way, Tweek had come to think of it as a friend. He had a suspicion that the flower did the same.

He then set his gaze back into Feldspar, his thighs acting as pillows for the thief’s head. It was the perfect angle to look at his face, unbidden by stoic pride or calculating thoughts. He looked so much younger. Like Tweek imagined he looked like before the world had made him cold, unreadable. He had seen those moments where his façade had broken, where he became a gentler man. When he had listened to him sing. When he had danced with him in his arms. He reached out to that part of the thief as he spoke his name softly, “Feldspar…”

Tweek realized that he wanted to be closer, to make sure his words were just between the two of them. He tenderly lifted Feldspar’s heavy head off his lap and set it down as gently as possible. Then Tweek laid down beside him, his lips almost grazing his ear. The flowers around Feldspar’s figure accommodated Tweek, lifting themselves up and over Tweek’s body so they could still work on the injuries. They pressed Tweek’s hips and legs snuggly against Feldspar without meaning to, which sent a flare of nerves up the barbarian’s stomach. Nevertheless, he began to whisper softly into Felspar’s ear, “I lied to you. You were not easy to kill. Not at all. As soon as my knife touched your neck, your eyes bore deep into mine…and I found that I couldn’t go through with it…”

His hand came up to stroke Feldspar’s hair again, relishing the how silky the strands felt beneath his fingers. Feldspar sighed in his sleep, slightly leaning his head into the touch. Tweek smiled and continued, “At first, I thought you had bewitched me, used some sort of magic to draw me to you. But, as the months passed by, I realized no spell or potion could last for that long. My feet moved with yours of their own volition. They still do. And if you never walked again, I’d stay by your side, content to be still for the rest of my life.”

Tweek felt tears stinging at the corner of his eyes and he sneered at himself. He wished he was emotionally stronger than this, but he had no heart of steel. His heart was made of blood and muscle, and every word he spoke sliced into it painfully, “Not only did I lie to you…I lied to myself. I tried to push away these feelings ever since the day we first met, because they used to scare me. I was scared to need someone as badly as I need you. But now, I’m just terrified that I may never get to see those beautiful eyes again…”

He was crying again, but he kept his tears silent for Feldspar. He rested his head on his shoulder, letting the saline droplets roll down his face, whispering one last confession, “I love you…”

All concept of time was absent in the shadowy cave. There was no way to tell what the world looked like outside, if the sky was light or dark. Tweek lay next to Feldspar for what seemed like hours. His tears had finally dried, and he felt rather calm. He listened to Feldspar’s steady breathing, feeling his own eyelids grow heavy. Just as the peaceful dark was about to claim his mind, Tweek felt something brush against his cheek. It was so light and delicate, it could’ve been a lily. _Was it trying to get his attention? Had something gone wrong?_

Tweek instantly jumped up onto his knees, his eyes snapping open to assess the dire situation. But all he saw were Feldspar’s worried eyes looking up at him. Feldspar’s outstretched hand flopping back onto his chest. Feldspar. _Feldspar._

“Feldspar!” Tweek squealed and launched himself at the man. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and the thief coughed the slightest bit. Tweek swiftly released him, stuttering with excitement and embarrassment, “S-Sorry. I-I’m just so h-happy you’re ok.”

“I’m happy you are too.” The thief looked him up and down from where he lay. “Your markings are gone.”

Tweek flushed. “It was the lily—!”

Feldspar smirked, laying a hand on top of the shaking blonde’s knee. “You look good.”

There was a spark in his eyes that made Tweek’s heart feel like it would combust any moment. He didn’t know how to respond to the compliment, so he ended up blurting, “Y-You should rest! I’ll go keep watch outside!”

Tweek almost bolted, but the firm grip on his wrist kept him still. “Stay.”

The barbarian gazed at the thief. There was a hidden plea in his command. His face was still vulnerable and young. Still needed him by his side.

Tweek rested his hand over the thief’s chest, just as it did before Feldspar drifted away. It became a silent promise for Tweek, one that Felspar seemed to understand. _I won’t leave you._

Without taking his eyes off Tweek, Feldspar hushed, “The flowers are watching us.”

Tweek suddenly noticed that there were no lilies around them at all. He turned to look behind him, confused, and saw that they were lining the walls on the other side, staring intently. Tweek snorted in surprised laughter, easily slipping back into the flowers’ tongue, “Um… _could we have some privacy?_ ”

The flowers were unmoving for an instant, then hurriedly clamored over each other to get to the tunnel entrance. Some nodded and whispered to each other. Others just zipped directly for the exit. One came towards Tweek. Blue and smaller than the rest. **_We would like you to spend the night. This forest is even more dangerous under the moon._**

Tweek smiled at his newfound friend, _“We’d appreciate that. Thank you.”_

It clapped its leaves elatedly and skittered off like the rest.

Feldspar gave Tweek a puzzled look when he turned back to him, and the flower whisperer clarified, “We’re spending the night.”

“Ah,” Feldspar nodded, thankful that he didn’t have to move any time soon.

Trying to find the words to say, Tweek tentative pulled his hand away from atop Feldspar’s chest. “Feldspar…I—”

“That’s not my name.”

“What?”

“It’s Craig.”

Tweek tested the way the new name felt in his mouth and discovered that it was much sweeter on his tongue than false one, “Craig…I like that name.”

Craig grinned. “My mother did too. But she would be heartbroken to know that her son is a thief.”

“I understand—” Tweek looked down and stopped short. Craig’s shirt was still raised above his stomach, and he could finally see what had become of his wounds.

Four long, jagged scars painted patches of his stomach a blazing white. They bit into his skin, twisting and tugging the cuts closed. It could have been worse. The sight knocked the wind out of Tweek, causing him to gasp for breath, “Holy shit…”

He tried to take a deep inhale but found that he couldn’t. A sharp huff of air was expelled from his lungs instead, and he felt his cheek start to dampen again.

“Please don’t cry anymore…It hurts to see your tears.” Craig put reached out to Tweek with both arms, cupping his face in tender hands. He brushed some of the saline liquid from under Tweek’s eyes with his thumbs, but more tears kept falling. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bare the weight of Craig’s compassionate gaze. It was all his fault. Yet, this man chose to forgive him.

Fingers cradled the back of Tweek’s head and pulled him downwards. Tweek didn’t fight it. His cheek came to rest on something hard and warm. It rose and fell in measured time. He could hear the beat of Craig’s heart nearby. Tweek didn’t have to open his eyes to realize his head was cradled at the center of the thief’s ribcage, resting right on top of his breastbone. The fingers that had brought him here soothed his wild curls of blonde hair, twirling a strand here and there. Craig’s voice was close and calming. It echoed in the cavern as it weaved a story for Tweek.

“I was in the forest because I had heard the tale of the lost barbarian. The one who had escaped the final purge and cried into the night like a deranged animal. They said he was a murderer, a savage with no regard for human life. If you looked into his eyes, you were marked for death.”

Tweek snuffled. “You came to finish me off.”

The hand in his hair scratched his scalp softly, quieting him. “No. I came to see if the legend was real. And it certainly was. But it was not completely _true_. There was no barbarian. Just a man. One who was hurt, deeply pained beyond anyone’s imagining. I looked into his eyes, and fell in love…”

That was when Tweek let his eyes flutter open. He regarded the thief cautiously, noting the purple sparkles still coating his eyelashes. “The pollen has made you delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Then don’t listen to me,” Craig chuckled. His chest spasmed with laughter that made Tweek’s head bounce against it slightly. The barbarian quickly sat up before the weight of his head could hurt Craig and wiped at his face, smiling. The fact that Craig could still laugh like that made him feel a little better.

The laughter in the cave seemed to make the crystals gleam even brighter. And as it died down, Tweek felt Craig grab his hand and yelped as the thief pressed his hand onto the scars. “If you doubt my words, touch me…”

“You…you have to live with these…because of me…” Tweek trembled. He could feel every indent, every wrinkled piece of skin that had once been torn. He tried to pull away, but Craig held him tightly. As he explained himself, he dragged Tweek’s fingers across each of the four marks. “I live with them _for_ you, because I couldn’t live _without_ you.”

Tweek’s heart swelled. He thought he might cry again, but there were no more tears left in his body. The feelings just kept pounding on his heart strings, with no outlet for escape.

Craig let go of his hand, but Tweek didn’t draw back. Not even as Craig cupped his cheeks and brought their lips together. Tweek closed his eyes and melted, tracing the patterns on Craig’s stomach gently, memorizing the elaborate way they decorated his skin. A soft groan rumbled in the back of the thief’s throat as their lips moved in time with each other, his back arching up into Tweek’s affectionate caress. The barbarian softened the kiss, lifting his lips to teasingly brush against his partner’s. Craig whispered breathlessly as he did so,“I love you too…It’s written in my heart. And my body. Only for you.”

Tweek flopped on his side, cuddling close to Craig, “Never took you for a hopeless romantic.”

Craig wiggled his arm underneath Tweek’s head, returning the favor as pillow for the barbarian. “Well, now you know.”

Tweek’s hand kept stroking his stomach, ghosting his fingers lovingly over the rigid lines, apologies and confessions laced in his touch. Craig hummed approvingly, his eyes beginning to flutter again with sleep. He fought against it, straining to keep his gaze on Tweek. The barbarian comforted him. “Craig…you don’t need to stay awake…”

“But I have so much to tell you, Tweek…”

“Shhhh…tell me when you’re well…”

The gentle caresses continued. Small, drowsy kisses were exchanged. They said three simple words to each other, over and over again, making up for all the times they had not said it. Craig still refused to rest, even though the pollen was still working in his system. It wasn’t until Tweek had started to sing to him that he finally started to give into his exhaustion. The barbarian smiled as his mother’s song turned into a lullaby. Translated into the language the thief could understand.

A knowing smile played on the thief’s lips. The barbarian kissed them. And the night finally took them both into its waiting arms, sealing the night’s memories in hazy, sweet dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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